


Honeybee

by hhoneycas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bees, Coda, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Nicknames, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhoneycas/pseuds/hhoneycas
Summary: After Cas and Dean come back from Purgatory (take 2), some things are revealed, but nothing is for sure, especially not when Dean "self-loathing" Winchester is involved.(I suck at summaries, true to my form)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Honeybee

**Author's Note:**

> for tay (casteination on twitter) who said "dean calling cas honeybee"!! i love the idea, so i wanted to write it :) i hope it's not too bad i haven't written in a while

Dean takes one more look around the bunker, making sure Sam is sleeping in his room, before he goes up to his own. 

Cas is already there, examining the cracks in the paint like they’ve got something to tell him. He looks up when Dean enters.

There’s a little bit of apprehension in his eyes when he says, “You needed to talk to me?” His eyes move to look at Dean’s face, staring at his features with the same intensity as the wall, like he’s trying to draw something from him. It makes Dean blush. 

“Yeah,” he says, smiling softly to quell whatever fear Cas might have. “But not here.” He holds out a hand and, despite the way his eyes narrow a little bit, Cas takes it. 

They step out of the room, Dean glancing down the hallway to check for Sam like he’s a teen sneaking out of motel rooms again. Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he drags Cas down the hall past his own room fully indenting to keep going, but Cas stops abruptly. 

Dean’s shoulder pops a little as he’s yanked back to face Cas. 

“What’s up?”

Cas stares up at him. “Are we going outside?” 

He nods, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth already. Dean watches as Cas steps into his room—the one he uses for “resting purposes” as he once told Dean—and walks over to the bed. Gently, Cas drags his fingers over the throw blanket on top of the covers, tugging at the fabric once he reaches the corner. Dean watches silently as Cas folds the blanket, first into thirds, then in half, and it’s not until it’s wrapped up in Cas’ arms that he recognizes it. 

“You kept it?” he asks, surprise clear in his voice. 

Cas looks down at the blanket, the one Dean stole from a Pottery Barn when Cas first became human, and rubs a hand over it almost lovingly.

When he finally looks up at Dean again, he smiles. “It was a gift. I’m told you’re  _ supposed _ to.”

And Dean can’t help but laugh, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.” He jerks his head down the hallway. “C’mon, sap. Let’s go.”

Their shoulders bump from time to time as they make their way out of the bunker, Cas’ hands being too busy holding the blanket. 

Once they’re outside, Dean leads them to a small patch of grass. It’s the only part where it’s green, like it was  _ meant _ for two people to sit and look up at the stars together. So, Dean sits and pats the space beside him.

When Cas sits, he drapes the blanket around their shoulders and leans his head against Dean. And, god, it makes him think. It makes him think about this thing they have that’s not twelve hours old.

It happened at the portal out of purgatory. Dean had paused one more time, prompting Cas to turn to face him and ask, “What’s the matter, Dean? We need to go.”

Dean had just looked up at him, took a step forward, until he was less than a foot from Cas, and froze again. 

“Come on, Dean. They could still be after us.”

Shaking his head, Dean had mumbled, “I’m not getting a second chance here only to fuck it up again.” 

And of course Cas had heard him. So, when he inevitably asked, “What do you mean?” Dean had taken that one final step forward and kissed him.

Surprised, Cas had dropped the blossom on the ground beneath them to grab Dean’s coat and pull him closer. 

The realization that  _ Cas was kissing him back _ was enough to get Dean to pull back, his own surprise evident on his face. “That,” he had started, clearing his throat, “that was what I meant. I’m not letting you get away again, Cas. I mean it. You mean too much to me. You-“ he stopped. The words laid inert on his tongue. 

Cas though, Cas had looked at Dean with this small, soft smile and said, “I feel the same way.” And he’d kissed Dean one more time before bending down to pick up the blossom. “Now,” he’d said, straightening, “let’s go home.”

When they’d gotten home, it had been too much of everything “Chuck” to bother and when it had finally settled down, Dean had said “We need to talk, would you meet me in my room after Sam goes to sleep?” Now they were here. 

Dean looks over at Cas who’s looking up at the stars, fondness in every part of his expression. And it’s that, that bit of happiness he hasn’t seen in days, weeks, however fucking long they’ve been at this, that makes him speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

That gets a reaction out of Cas. He moves his gaze from the stars to Dean, his expression never changing and asks, “For what?” 

Dean sighs, readying himself for it, before he opens his mouth. “All of it. Jesus, Cas, I’m so sorry.”

There’s a hand around his back, Cas’ fingers warm and sure as they grip his shoulder. “You’ve said it, Dean. You’ve said it all. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Not anymore.”

Dean wants to cry. But that’d be too many tears in too few hours, so he just looks up at the stars and laughs. It tastes bitter as it hits his throat.

“Not just that. I mean everything.” He takes a breath. “I’ve been-I’ve been terrible. When I had the mark, sure, but just me was enough sometimes. I blamed you for mom when all you wanted to do was trust Jack. I didn’t do near enough when you were possessed by fucking Lucifer, I was just paralyzed.” At that there’s another hard squeeze to his arm and Cas is leaning closer to him, kissing him softly on the temple. 

“I care about none of that, anymore, Dean. None of it matters,” he says, voice close to pleading. 

Dean leans into the touch, but he says, “I’m still not even done. There’s so much. I stopped trusting you. I kicked you out of the bunker.” He pauses, fingering the blanket drooping around him. “I let you take Sam’s trauma and treated you like shit. And it’s still–you still–“ he grabs Cas’ hand where it sits on his arms, holding so tight he’s certain that if Cas were human, he would be in pain. 

He hears Cas shuffle a bit beside him. He feels the heat of his body press closer. He notices as Cas’ free hand grabs his own and brings it to his lips. “And I’m still here, Dean. Because I love you.”

He finally sobs, just once, letting his body shake a little as Cas holds him. He finally feels free, though, and he lets Cas hold him until he calms down. He let’s Cas drag soft fingers across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. 

Once he’s stopped crying, he says, “I never thanked you for that. For taking Sam’s burden. So, thank you.”

Cas is silent for a long moment. A long, worrisome moment. Dean looks over at him to find him looking at the stars again. When he finally speaks, he says, “I was unhappy, yes. It hurt taking all of that, I felt young and naive and hurt, but it was not the worst time of my life.”

Dean thinks he’s saying it just to make him feel better but his impulsive words betray him, the bite of his tone clear when he asks, “Because of Meg?”

And Cas just laughs. “No. I don’t think so. As pleasant as my time with her may have seemed, I don’t believe she had the purest of intentions toward our relationship.”

Again, Deans impulse gets the better of him. He scoffs, “If you could call it that.”

Cas nods lightly, “I doubt you could.”

They’re silent for another moment before Dean’s curiosity peaks. 

“What about that time was good, Cas?”

He hums, thinking of his answer. 

“There was no pressure,” he admits, “no violence until the end. It was calm. Not always, but there were good moments.”

And then he laughs again, barely audible. Dean looks at him and let’s his affection come to surface before he asks, “What’s so funny?”

“Of course, the best part of that time was the bees.”

Dean barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. “Bees? What’s so special about bees?”

He expects Cas to glare at him but all he does is continue to take in the scenery. “Bees, they have a purpose. They serve a queen that they can trust. At a time where I felt profoundly lost, missing my brothers and trust in everything I knew, they gave me an example of order.”

Dean laces their fingers together. 

“They did something with their lives. Honey-making seems simple and routine to humans, but so was watching the Earth. They explored the flowers the same as I explored humanity. The same job, yes, but something new about every day. I have loved the bees for millennia. But, when I was sick, they gave me the hope that I would find something to depend on again. Something I could trust with all of me again.” He sighs, and Dean can tell that he’s finished. 

They let the words simmer and flow around them for a while before Dean asks, “Did you?”

“Did I what?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the sky. 

“Did you find something to trust?”

Cas looks down at their joined hands. He looks up at Dean. He smiles, wide and true. “Yes. I believe I have.”

Dean raises their hands to press a kiss to the back of Cas’. “I’m glad, honeybee,” he says with a shy smile, hiding behind their fingers. 

The smile that Cas gives him back, however, evaporates any fear he had. “Honeybee?”

Dean smiles wider. “Yeah. You and me. A hive of our own or whatever.”

“So I’m a honeybee?” He’s teasing, but Dean humors him. 

“You’re  _ my _ Honeybee,” he corrects, putting a hand in Cas’ jaír and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Cas looks up at him, his eyes shining in the moonlight. “I like it.”

And then Dean’s ready. He’s okay. With Cas looking up at him like this and this love he feels curling warmly through his stomach, he feels good. “And I love you, honeybee.”


End file.
